


Yellow Eyes

by HostisHumaniGeneris



Series: Writing Rainbow Fills [10]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Sexual Coercion, Sibling Incest, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24416368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/pseuds/HostisHumaniGeneris
Summary: He'd been trying to reconnect, really.  But lately, all she wanted from him was a ride up to their old family's cabin, pretty much once a month.  This time, he's going to try to take it slow, get her to open up a bit.He's going to get more than he bargained for.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: Writing Rainbow Fills [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1763248
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19
Collections: Writing Rainbow Make Up Round, Writing Rainbow Yellow





	Yellow Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StormyDaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormyDaze/gifts).



> Written for a make-up round of Writing Rainbow, for the Prompt "Any Fandom I've ever requested in any exchange". And the requestor had earlier requested "Werewolf Sister/Human Brother" for the Consent Issues Exchange.

“You really should’ve packed more.” He said, eyes on the road as he drove, while she disinterestedly looked at the trees bordering the road. This was maybe the third time he’d circled around to her preparation for this little campout. On the trip over, he tried to engage her a dozen different ways, while she only occasionally asked if he could go faster.

“Hn.” She said. “I can take care of myself.”

Those words _never_ ended well. How many cuts and broken bones did she get as kids, climbing a tree they weren’t supposed to or hopping a fence with a ‘BEWARE OF DOG’ sign? Or dealing with the sixth grade who’d been stealing his lunch money? That earned her a black eye, a suspension from school… and he’d never had his lunch money stolen.

“I don’t mean to lecture.” He said. “It’s just… you should have more clothes—it gets cold at night this time of year. And food, too.”

“I brought food last time. Canned stuff, it’ll last.” She said, twisting her head to track something at roadside. She hadn’t. Not last time, or the time before that, or all the other times she’d asked him to drive her out to the old cabin their grandparents left them. He let it slide. She’d dig in if he pried, insist she was right and he was wrong.

“Besides, plenty of food there.” She said. He looked at her, slowing slightly as he did. Unless something happened while he was away at college, she did not know what berries down by the cabin were good or toxic. “I… fish. There’s an old rod and reel. Must’ve been granddad’s. It’s right by the lake.”

“You hate fish.” He said, eyes back on the road. “Unless this is the point? Getting in touch with nature and living off the land.”

“Yeah, sorta.” She said. He swallowed hard. He’d always, always meant to reconnect with her after coming home from school. But when he graduated, she’d moved off to Alaska after responding to an ad for a fishery—spent a summer gutting fish for pretty decent money before coming home, angry. By then, he was working—took all the overtime he could to impress the boss. He didn’t have the time to really… he really should have made the time.

Then there were her run-ins with the law. She had… bad friends. He did, too—it took him a long time to realize it, their bad influence was a lot different than her friends’. He could’ve reached out, lent a hand. But she was a ‘lost cause’.

God he was an asshole.

Then mom sat him down and told him bluntly that he could at least make the _effort_. If he was the responsible one, the one who wasn’t always getting in trouble, then he could make the first move. She wouldn’t be around forever, and they’d both be alone unless they made things right. She mentioned an old story, half-remembering details that were crystal clear to Seth, about how they used to be thick as thieves. And that got him thinking.

He never liked any of his ‘friends’ that would look down on Jess the way he liked Jess. He did what he could to fit in, but at the end of the day, getting drinks with the rest of the office was an exercise in frustration. It used to be so simple, just following her lead, even if it led to clusterfucks.

It was hard, took him months after the funeral to really reach out. But she responded better than he thought she would. They’d been mending the bridges, hanging out more. She cut out some toxic people, he did too. She picked better habits, he ignored his ‘friends’ who couldn’t believe she and him were related. They were getting along pretty good, too. Until earlier this spring. She went incommunicado; it took weeks to get her to return his calls, and since then… she wasn’t back to her old bad habits. She just… isolated. Didn’t want much to do with him, except she needed him to drive her out to that old cabin once a month.

He fell back on bad habits. Hanging around with his crowd of wrong people. At least until Steve made a comment about “her time of the month” when he said he couldn’t hit up the golf course, he had to take Jessica to the cabin. Again.

In a way, it was good to be reminded what an asshole Steve was.

“We used to spend whole summers up here.” He said, looking at her out the periphery of his eye. He drained the paper cup of lukewarm coffee—he stopped at a donut shop when they left town. She didn’t want to stop, had to get to the cabin. “You, me, Mom, grandpa. Haven’t really been up her since he died.”

She rocked her head back and forth. “Hn.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You say that a lot.” She said. He did. She scratched the side of her face. Looked up at the sky. “We’re not going to get there until sunset.”

She became more and more fidgety as the drive went on—he needed GPS to find the cabin again the first few trips, but now he had the route mostly memories. Even as it started to get dark. Just needed her to remind him of the one last turn-off. She was out of the car nearly as soon as he put it in park. 

He clicked the lock button just as she tried to open the trunk and get her stuff. It was a dick thing he always did when they were kids, at least until she started doing it to him. “Hey! What the fuck, Seth?”

He gave his best asshole grin. “C’mon Jess. Something about this place… remember when we were kids? God… we used to be so scared at night. Grandpa said the wolves and bears would get us.”

There wasn’t anything fiercer than whitetail deer in the woods here. Hadn’t been for a good century.

“So you’re being a dick, just like when we were kids?” She said, scowling when he stretched his arm up to the sky, dangling the keys. “C’mon.”

He let his arm drop, and unlocked the trunk. She sighed and got her duffel bag, slung it over her mostly-bare shoulder. Halfheartedly she muttered. “See you Sunday at noon. Love you, bro.”

He stepped towards the front door to the cabin, sitting on rickety wooden steps. It groaned in protest. The old cabin had seen a lot better days. “Y’know… place is kind of a shithole. Maybe next month I can get some wood and we can fix it up a little? Or… call someone who knows how to fix places like this up?”

He positioned himself so she couldn’t get to the Cabin. It had been simmering all on the way here. Actually a lot longer than that. A few months back, he was feeling good. Better than he had in a long time. And then she stopped talking to him. Cut him out. He never asked her what she was really up to here, but he was worried. And more than that, that brief reconnection… it brought back so much he’d been missing. And to lose it all over again.

“Could you just get going?” She snapped, letting the duffel bag drop. Heat flashed across his face. He wasn’t sure if he was angry she was pushing him away, devastated. She must’ve seen something in his face, because she looked up at him, her expression softened. “I… look, I… I _really_ need to be alone. Just for tonight? _Please_?”

“Just… can we talk?” He said. “Like… something’s up. I dunno what, but something. But you’re not yourself. And I just want to help.”

“You can’t.” She looked desperate when she said that, and for some reason he felt like an asshole again. “Look… you’re right. We haven’t talked in a while, and… it’s been good, getting back together again. I just… can we… after this weekend…”

He was about to say something , anything, when she doubled over, coughing like she’d been hit in the gut. She coughed and gasped, and he got to his feet, heading to her side. He put a hand on her shoulder to see if she was okay. “Jess?”

She batted his arm away, hard. She was a head shorter than him, rail thin, and she shoved him back. Despite the difficulty she had, she muttered. “G-get to the car.”

Her voice was pained and weak and the words mattered less than that she needed help. He checked his phone, hoping to dial 9-1-1. Zero fucking bars. Okay… he ran through half-remembered first aid in his head. Hadn’t eaten anything, so no choking. Heat stroke? No, too cold. Hypothermia… he didn’t think it made people double over. She was on her knees, and he hooked an arm under hers. Whatever this was, he’d drive her to a hospital.

That was the plan before he was flat on his back, her standing over him, before dropping to her knees again. Right on top of him. She screamed and panted and collapsed. “God damn… Seth. I… it’s too late.”

She was burning up. Fever? Okay—she seemed out of it, so he’d just get her to a hospital. He tried to gently roll her off. He froze when she muttered. “Seth?”

“Yeah, Jess?” He wanted to keep her talking. He had no clue if keeping her talking was good, but if she didn’t respond, he didn’t know if he could hold it together long enough to get her to the car. He hooked am arm over her shoulders, held her close. He needed to move, but didn’t want to let her go. 

“Just… I love you, okay?” There was a note of finality to that that made his stomach drop. He tried to sit up, when she _shoved_ , pinning him down. A rail-thin woman half his size should not have been that much stronger than him. He tried to get her off, mind racing back to when they were kids—imitating something they saw in the WWE or something, until their parents broke it up. Except he was the one who could pin her easily. “And…”

What came out next might’ve been an ‘I’m sorry’, but it was not clear. He tried to push her up, fingers finding something _soft_. Not flesh. Fur. A lot of it. The hands on his shoulders felt heavier, bigger. Something clicked and she howled; rearing up and giving her a good view of a furry throat, a jawline too long to be hers, or human. The seams of her shirt split with an audible rip as she stumbled back.

He stood frozen for too long she _grew_ and hunched. Fingers lengthened, ending in claws rather than chronically-chewed nails. The button popped off the jeans she wore, and she clawed at them. He got to his feet and turned to run, hearing a “Seth” that was too animal to even be human, and that couldn’t have come from anyone but Jess.

He turned… the only thought that hit his head was a werewolf, which was crazy, because _werewolves didn’t exist._ But in front of him, wearing the tattered remnants of his Sister’s iron Maiden shirt, using a clawed finger to tear off a too-tight pair of underwear, was werewolf.

Its head snapped towards him, and yellow eyes shone in the darkness. He made to turn and he was once again on the ground. He rolled onto his stomach and tried to crawl, only for a massive paw to grab the collar of his jacket. He shrugged it off and managed to get to his feet when it grabbed onto her. He screamed “Jessie!”

It didn’t stop the thing from pawing him over, running its claws against him, tearing ruts in his shirt, but nothing else. Panic and amazement kept him from realizing he’d been bruised and scraped, rather than eviscerated, until a clawed paw fell on his crotch.

And squeezed.

He barely had time to protest when she tore at him, shoving him around, grabbing fabric and yanking it off. He was shirtless, with a few strips of denim hanging from his belt by the time each of the creature’s paws found a shoulder and forced him to his knees.

He barely had time to register that she had just put him at crotch-level for her when a massive paw left his shoulder, wrapped around his head, and pulled him in close. Something pungent and warm and wet pressed against his face, and she ground her hips against him for a good long while. It took way too long for him to realize what she wanted.

Okay, he’d eaten out girls before. And they at least said he did a good job. No reason he couldn’t do it now.

Except he was scared out of his mind.

And the girl in question was a fucking mythological creature.

And the girl in question was his sister.

Points of claws dug into his scalp as she pressed him more insistently against herself.

Closing his eyes, he stuck out his tongue. And coughed at a strong, metallic taste. He ran his tongue along her slit, earning a tiny, appreciative whine from her. That was a decent sign… he thought.

Okay he was drawing a blank. He tried to picture the last time he did this, the girl moaning. What had he done right? The problem was he wasn’t imaging it right. Because instead of Jen from Accounts Receivable, he was imagining Jess. Human, not dog. And definitely shaved down there.

He kept at it. He wasn’t sure if the fact her grip was _tightening_ was a good or bad sign, but the whines and little yips definitely were.

Eventually she let him go, leaving him gasping for air, wiping his face with the back of his forearm and spitting up stray fur. When he looked back at her, she had strode a few feet away, bending over and turning her head to look at him. Her tail was held to the side, and it was obvious where she wanted his attention.

Okay, he was out. He was _not_ going to fuck his sister, a dog, or his dog-sister. He looked in the direction of his car, and earned a sharp bark. He snapped his eyes back on her, and she was right in his face. She had to lean to keep him at eye level, those yellow eyes wide. She held a long arm towards him, claws right below his chin. The index finger curled, towards herself.

Another clawed paw curled around him. He was hard for this. _Why_ was he hard for this. He was scared out of his mind, and she was his sister. The metal taste on his tongue made him reflexively swallow. She squeezed hard enough to make him wince, and she lapped at his neck and held him as she stroked him roughly.

And she turned away again, bending over, again.

He had no idea how far she’d take things if he didn’t service her. So, taking a deep breath, He put a hand on either of her hips and lined up. He closed his eyes and imagined. How to make this better? What if she wasn’t a wolf? The yip she let out when he forced himself in broke that illusion. And oh damn, he had just imagined fucking his sister doggystyle and… it hadn’t been the first time.

He pushed in, and earned a yelp. The angle was _off_. And she was painfully tight. But she was also incredibly wet. She let out little barks, again, what he only could take as a good sign, and he kept it up. The best way to keep this up was, he decided to focus on earlier, guilty thrills of his. A few lonely nights in college, after a few drinks and a rare cell phone call home, where she sounded as lonely and desperate as he did, he’d think about her in a decidedly not-sisterly way.

Maybe more than a few times in college. Maybe more recently.

He curled his arms around her and drove In, fucking her like an animal. He had no clue about either his sister’s cues or dog reproduction, so he just hoped he was doing well. Imagining fucking his sister, while fucking his sister in the form of a giant bipedal wolf.

Yeah.

This hadn’t been the plan when the night began.

The night was chilly, he was terrified, and she was tight and warm and wet. He just held on and kept fucking her, doing his best to ignore the animal noises she made as he buried his face in a furry shoulder and let out animalistic noises right along with her. The familiar build, right up until he came was barely felt—he was too busy pondering what would happen if she didn’t get off from this. Or if she did. He was sick and scared and when he slipped out, flacid and covered in a mix of his and her juices, he collapsed, panting like a dog.

She wheeled around and yipped, ears upright, head tilted, tongue lolling out, eyes wide and bright. He _guessed_ he did good? He had no fucking clue. Then she pounced, and before he knew it, he was flat on his back, her crotch in his face _again_ , while a rough tongue went to work on his cock. She wriggled her hips side-to-side while claws pressed against his thighs. He definitely was even less enthusiastic about eating his Werewolf sister out after he'd already came in her... but he could feel her mouth around his cock. What big teeth she had.

So, all things considered, he supposed he could indulge her.

* * *

He woke up sore, laying on the floor of the cabin's kitchen, a makeshift pillow of torn clothes underneath his head. He tried to stand, only to realize his arms were bound. His head snapped up, looking at the ancient wood stove, and the chain looped around it, manacled to either wrist. The chain rattled as he futilely tried to get free.

“Hey.” Something moved in his peripheral vision. He turned his head, seeing her in the corner of the room. She was wearing a green jacket, way too big for her--his jacket--over another band tee and a pair of skimpy underwear. She walked towards him and dropped to sit next to him. He struggled some more. “Easy, there. Easy.”

“Jess… what the …”

“Now do you see why I wanted you to go?” She asked. She wasn’t looking at him, instead looking off, outside the window. “God… I had no idea what was going to happen.”

“Seriously…” Where to fucking start here? She was a werewolf? Werewolves existed? She fucked him senseless… memories of her getting more and more aggressive when he couldn’t get up for round two danced in his head—that’s where most of the bruises came from. “Jess…”

“Yeah… that’s what I’ve been doing every time I come up here.” She said, silently. “I can change when I want… but always wake up somewhere else, needing spare clothes. And well, full moon comes around, I can’t not want to change. I’d come up here, strip down, chain myself up, and not worry about doing something stupid.”

She sighed, stretched a little, then lay on the floor on her side, next to him. “I woke up this morning remembering that I was trying to get you to leave. God I was scared. A few months back I hadn’t gotten myself chained up in time, and when I woke up…”

There was a long pause.

“Jess…” He said, more to say something than because he had any clue _how_ to talk about what happened. Because fucking your werewolf sister until you black out was not something he'd ever had to think about discussing.

“Found you next to the cabin. Dragged you in.” She rubbed her blue eyes and gave a smile. “I was so glad you were alright.”

Alright was… maybe not accurate, but it was definitely better than she expected, which he guessed counted for something. “Jess, you don’t have to chain me up, I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

“I know. God…” She took in a deep breath. “I wish I had told you sooner. You knowing… it’s like a weight’s been lifted. You could be a dick, but you’re all I’ve got. And.. I'm really glad you wanted to get back together, spend more time.”

She tossed an arm across his chest, sidled up closer, best hug she could give him with him tied up. “It’s fine, Jess. Let’s just go home. Next month, I won’t fuck around with the coffee.”

“Oh, not yet.” She said, her arm drifted down. “I… like I said, you knowing’s a weight lifted. But it’s not just that I’m a werewolf.”

“Jess?” Fingers stroked a bruise she left on his hip, trailing up his side, across his abdominals and down lower.

“Christ… do you know how many losers I’ve dated because they remind me of you?” She said, adding. “No offense, I mean.”

“Okay…” He might've fantasized about laying next to Jess on many more occasions than he'd admit. But he had _no clue_ she felt the same.

"We were always so close growing up... then you left." She leaned in very close and inhaled sharply. "And then when you came back... you never really came back. Same town but we never saw each other, never hung out."

"I'm sorry." He said, wincing as nails dug into skin and her tone grew tenser. "I was trying to make things right."

“Do you know how much it killed me? We were finally coming together again, and then my 'condition' meant I couldn't be around you. God, I have shit impulse control at the best of times, and just being in the car with you I had all these urges. I thought I wanted to hurt you, really. And then this morning, you were fine, and I didn’t wake up like… well. We both came out of this fine.” She nipped at his ear. “A lot of last night was a blur, but it did put my mind at ease. Those _needs and wants_... I was never going to hurt you.”

Beyond the bruises up and down his body, apparently.

She paused again. Trying his best to get her to listen, as her hand ran down to his crotch, he said “Jess, what happened last night… we shouldn’t make a habit out of it.”

Her fingers curled around him again. He was standing straight up. “Liar.”

She squeezed until he groaned for emphasis. Then she sat up, swung her leg over him. Straddling him, she reached for his neck and looped something around. “Found this the… second trip I took up here? Must’ve been for one of grandpa’s dogs.”

Grandpa’s dogs were long gone by the time they were visitng the cabin as kids. Just photos of big, burly animals and stories of how they were a handful, but once you got them trained, they were perfect hunting companions. Obedient. As she cinched the collar tight around his neck, she leaned in close. “There you go, ‘killer’.”

“Jess…” He had to think of something. Beyond the fact he couldn’t just go and say his sister was a rapist werewolf… he didn’t want her to leave him--he didn't want to leave her. His heart was racing. She kicked the crap out of him last night getting him to fuck her, and he wasn't sure he could take a whole weekend of her. A ton of thoughts ran through his head as she talked. She rambled on about bits about canine anatomy—once she got him trained, and boy she had plans on how to do that, she’d bite him. Not bad, she wouldn’t want to hurt him too bad, but once a month they could definitely keep each other out of trouble.

As she pushed the thin material of her underwear to the side and lowered herself on top of him, she corrected herself. Once a month as wolves they’d keep each other out of trouble. The rest of the month? She could think of plenty of ways to get in trouble with him. He let out a strangled groan as she took him all the way. At least they’d be spending more time together.

“Don’t worry Seth, I can take care of us both.” She said, with a grin of pointed teeth as he stared into her yellow eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> To StormyDaze, I hope you enjoyed it! You mentioned wanting something "Maybe they were kinda co-dependent to begin with, but now that she’s bigger and stronger, she takes things to the next level?", and I kinda went that angle. I hope I delivered something you liked, but if you'd want something else, please feel free to let me know.


End file.
